


Bears and Bees

by StarSpray



Series: Wisdom of the Evening Star [28]
Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, The Carrock (Tolkien)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-30 18:09:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10168799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarSpray/pseuds/StarSpray
Summary: Eluréd, Elurín, and Radagast are traveling through Wilderland, and discover the Carrock—and that someone has carved steps into it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the Back to Middle-earth Month prompt: Animals
> 
> This story takes place in the same 'verse as my fics _Fate is Yours to Choose_ and _The World Ahead_ , but reading them isn't necessary, except to know that Elured/Elurin were rescued from Doriath by Nellas, who took them east.

“Well, this is new,” Elurín remarked, stopping so abruptly that Eluréd walked into him.

“What is?” he asked, stepping back and up beside him. “Oh.” Before them was the Anduin, and the large outcropping of rock jutting out of the middle, like a small imitation of the much larger Misty Mountains to the West, with the natural ford there of flat stones, and the little cave at the base of the rock, in which he and Elurín had sheltered many times before. All of that was the same as it always was, but there were steps now carved into the side of the stone, leading apparently all the way up to the top. They looked freshly carved, too, not yet worn by feet or by weather.

The Brown Wizard, who had recently taken up the name Radagast, leaned on his staff and regarded the steps curiously. “Didn’t you say no one lived in this land, between the river and Mirkwood?” he asked.

“We did,” Eluréd said.

“At least, no one lived nearby when we last passed through,” Elurín said. “But that was some time ago. But I can’t think why anyone might want to build a stairway there.”

“There’s only one way to find out!” Eluréd sprang forward, splashing across the ford. He peered into the little cave, and saw that someone, or something, had sheltered there recently, judging by some disturbances in the pebbles.

“A bear passed through not long ago,” Elurín said, as Eluréd emerged from the cave. “There are tracks here, leading to and away from the stairs.” He gestured toward them. “Radagast has already started climbing.”

They climbed the stairs, finding them well made and not too steep, and joined the wizard on the flat expanse at the top. It gave them a great view of the lands on either side of the river. Even Mirkwood was visible, a dark line on the horizon. Eluréd turned westward toward the mountains, and was watching an eagle circle when Elurín nudged him with an elbow. “Is that smoke over there?”

Eluréd turned. There was indeed a line of smoke curling into the sky, pale enough that it was easy to miss—but Elurín’s eyes had always been keen. “It seems there is someone dwelling in these lands,” Radagast remarked. “Elves, perhaps?”

“Men, most likely,” Eluréd said. “Thranduil’s folk tend to keep to the forest, except for the occasional jaunt to Esgaroth, or maybe Dorwinion, if they run out of wine. And these steps are not of Dwarf make.”

“Dwarves wouldn’t live on the plains, either,” Elurín added. “Certainly not here.”

It took the better part of a day to reach the source of the smoke. They passed through an oak wood, and lovely wildflower meadows filled with buzzing bees and gem-bright butterflies, and before long they could smell woodsmoke, and hear the unmistakable sound of an axe splitting wood.

The wielder of that axe was a man—the biggest man Eluréd had ever seen. He was not only tall—nearly as tall as Eluréd and Elurín, and anyway height itself was not that impressive—but _big_ , with arms and legs thick as young tree trunks. His hair was black and thick, and his beard had bits of wood stuck in it. He wore a stained tunic, and what skin was visible beneath his hair glistened with sweat. He was alone, and busy at work on a building that would eventually, Eluréd assumed, be his house. Nearby a few horses grazed, and a cow with her calf. But he didn’t see any other people; the man seemed to be quite alone.

“Oh, he keeps bees,” Radagast said, spotting a few hives near the house’s foundations. “How wonderful! I do love a good taste of honey.”

The man straightened, leaning on his axe, as they crossed the meadow toward him. He was scowling, but it was the sort of scowl that indicated wariness rather than active anger or dislike. “Hello, and well met, my friend!” Elurín called out once they were close enough.

The man grunted. “Well met,” he said, rather grudgingly, Eluréd thought.

Elurín cheerfully ignored the tone. “I am Elurín, and this is my brother Eluréd. Our friend is the wizard Radagast.”

Radagast smiled brightly at the man, also blithely ignoring his scowl, “Your beehives are wonderful!” he said. “May I take a closer look?”

The man’s eyebrows rose, but he nodded, and his expression eased. “I am Beorn,” he said as Radagast made his way to the hives. “I did not think anyone else dwelled in these parts.”

“Neither did we,” Elurín said. “But we don’t live here; my brother and I prefer to wander. So does Radagast, although he’s been talking of settling near the forest.” Near enough to count as a neighbor, in these empty lands. What Beorn thought of the idea, Eluréd couldn’t tell. It was difficult to read his expression beneath that wild beard.

“We wondered if you knew who carved the steps into that great river rock,” Eluréd said.

“In the Carrock? I did.” Beorn hefted his axe again, and split a thick log in a single blow. He lifted one half and carried it with apparent ease to one of the growing walls. In the meadow, the cow lowed.

“Carrock?” Eluréd murmured to Elurín, who shrugged.

“His word, I suppose,” he said. “I’ve never heard it before. But it fits, doesn’t it? The thing _looks_ like a carrock.”

“Mm.” Eluréd dropped his pack to the ground, and set his bow and quiver beside it. “Would you like some help, Beorn?” he said, as the man returned. Elurín dropped his things with Eluréd’s, and after enduring a skeptical look and a grunt of faint approval, they spent the afternoon hoisting logs, and helping Beorn make great progress on what would be his hall. Radagast wandered back over with the horses and cows at his heels, having of course made friends almost immediately. This seemed to endear them to Beorn more than anything, because he stopped frowning and smiled when he invited them to stay the night with him, and share his dinner.

They feasted on honey and cream, and mushrooms and wild vegetables and herbs roasted together over the fire. Radagast peppered Beorn with questions about his foraging, and his knowledge of the land, which was not as extensive as Radagast had apparently hoped; Beorn had not been here quite that long yet. Just long enough to decide where he wanted to settle, and of course to carve the steps in the Carrock. When Radagast asked where he had come from, his expression closed again, and he said shortly, “The mountains.”

Elurín and Eluréd glanced at each other. Goblins had been multiplying in the Misty Mountains, and giants too, driving out the people who had dwelled there before—although in the giants’ case Eluréd did not think they realized what they were doing. Neither Eluréd nor Elurín had met those people—they had been reclusive, and wary of strangers—but they had come upon campsites and broken or forgotten items left behind. More and more, they had come upon destroyed campsites, and had to bury the bodies of those left behind, building cairns with a feeling of guilt that they did not know the proper rites, or even the names, of those they attempted to lay to rest.

When that happened, they usually went hunting for the orcs responsible. But there always seemed to be a dozen more for every one they slew.

That night they slept within the half-finished walls of Beorn’s house. Beorn’s animals joined them, and Elurín took out his harp and sang a while, until one by one they drifted off to sleep. But sometime in the middle of the night, after the moon had set, Eluréd woke to snuffling and snorting noises, and rustles in the grass just beyond the walls. He recognized those sounds—there was a bear nosing around. He raised his head, but saw that Beorn’s horses and cows—even the calf—were resting calmly and contentedly. Beorn himself was nowhere to be seen. Eluréd kept alert, ready to spring to action should the bear get _too_ curious, but after a short while the sounds faded away as the bear made its lumbering away off toward the river. Eluréd sighed, and rolled over, sleep returning quickly.

The next morning Beorn was back, and said nothing of any nighttime visitors, or of his own activities, so Eluréd remained silent also. But Beorn caught Eluréd peering curiously at him, and grinned, quick and fierce. “Did you sleep well?” he asked, his voice a growling rumble.

“Mostly,” Eluréd said. “Have you ever had trouble with bears, here?”

“Trouble?” The grin widened. “No, not I.”

Radagast, looked up from his honeycomb with bright, sharp eyes, and laughed. “I thought you had that air about you,” he said. “You are a skin-changer, Beorn, aren’t you?” Beorn inclined his head. “I know a bit about that sort of thing.” He laughed again. “And so do Eluréd and Elurín!”

“Oh, really?”

“Not personally,” Elurín said. He stretched his arms over his head. “But our grandmother took on the form of Thuringwethil once, and our sister once turned into a seabird, although I’ve heard it said Ulmo had a hand in that.”

“He did,” Radagast agreed, “but she later learned properly for herself. And there are others among the Eldar who can take on different seemings if they wish or if they must. But I’ve never heard of such gifts among Men.”

“Then you have not been listening to the right tales,” Beorn said, but he offered no further explanation.

They stayed that day with Beorn, helping him build his house—which would, when it was done, resemble a hall more than a house—and taking turns telling tales. Beorn shared little of the lore of his people, but he had much knowledge of the mountains, where to find shelter, where game was most plentiful. In return Elurín sang the best bits of the Lay of Leithian, and Eluréd shared amusing stories from their travels. Beorn laughed long and loudly after the one where Eluréd spent a full night throwing things at trolls from the branches of various trees. And that evening Radagast entertained them with his knowledge of the more obscure workings of birds and beasts.

The next morning Beorn saw them off with gifts of honeycomb, and a smile—quite a change from their meeting. Eluréd swung his arms as they headed back south through the wildflower meadows. “Well, that was fun,” he said. “Where to, now?”

“We could go through Mirkwood, pay a visit to the Woodelves,” Elurín said.

“I should like that,” Radagast said. “I would like their opinions on where it would be best to settle. Mithrandir may be content to spend his days a pilgrim, but I would like some place I can put up my feet.”

“To the Woodelves, then!” Elurín said.

In these empty lands there was little need to set a watch, but until they reached the Forest Road, Eluréd was sure that a large dark bear kept pace with them, ever just out of sight, except perhaps at twilight, if one had keen eyes and was paying attention.


End file.
